


The Stargazers

by ThisNothingInTheMiddle



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who: Eighth Doctor Adventures - Various Authors, Gallifrey (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Ended up tagging this as m/m even though I use they/them pronouns for Eight, Is this the first Eight/Narvin fic on here?, M/M, You'd almost think that it's a rare pair!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:55:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22921384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisNothingInTheMiddle/pseuds/ThisNothingInTheMiddle
Summary: On one hand, Narvin's irritated that he's apparently not worth a spare TARDIS pick-up from his supposedly short mission to Earth. On the other hand, he's almost glad to have some time away from Gallifrey, and away from the War that he's already so, so tired of.On the mysterious third hand, he's just met a rather interesting and- dare he think it- attractive human named Dr Bowman.
Relationships: Eighth Doctor/Narvin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	The Stargazers

**Author's Note:**

> For Narvin this is set sometime after Gallifrey Time War 1 and before the end of Time War 2, after Leela's gone missing and everything's going to hell. And for Eight, it's set during the Earth Arc in the EDAs (specifically between Casualties of War and Wolfsbane), when they've lost their memory.

Narvin scrutinised the view in front of him. Not too far down the hill, light from the human village warmed the night. The silhouette of a sailing ship was just visible on the other side of town, and beyond that was the cool, endless ocean, its waves catching the moonlight.

Shouts and laughter from the town’s unusually late festivities were audible even up here, but Narvin was ignoring them, just as he was ignoring the beauty of the scene. Even with a shining moon and a cloudless sky, he couldn’t see what he was looking for. He let out a huff of pent-up frustration.

He looked down at the device in his hands. Its readout remained unchanging and completely silent. No timeships in the area. No temporal disruption at all. Given that Narvin was here to triple-check that Earth’s time lock was holding, that should have been some comfort of a job well done. However, he had rather been hoping for a TARDIS with the appropriate access codes to give him a lift home.

Once more he looked at the view, then back at the scanner. He gave it an undignified shake. No luck. Repressing the urge to hurl it down the hillside, he pocketed it.

“So this is what all my loyal service earns me,” he said bitterly. “I hope they’re having a good laugh about it at the Agency.”

“How nice of you to say,” said a light, jovial voice from behind him, “I do like a man who doesn’t mind a laugh at his own expense.”

Narvin whipped around to see someone with long hair and elaborate clothes strolling up the rise toward him. For a second Narvin relaxed slightly, assuming it was his contact ready to escort him to a cloaked TARDIS. But then he did a double take. The closer he focused on them, the clearer it was that the person wasn’t a Time Lord. They were unusually telepathic for a human, but they were without the tell-tale link to Gallifrey or mental structures that anyone in the Capital older than a Time Tot would have. It was only when Narvin didn’t look at them directly- like a mirage- that there was something _familiar_ about their mind.

There was also something ever-so-slightly familiar about the human’s physical body. He’d never been particularly good at telling humans apart- they recognised each other almost exclusively by their faces, which to Narvin just sounded confusing and, well, alien. He decided that any physical recognition of this person must just come from spending too much time thinking about- another human.

“I don’t suppose you’re here to abduct me?” the newcomer broke through Narvin’s thoughts.

Narvin blinked. “I- er- well, No. Whatever gave you that idea?”

They stopped quite close to him and shrugged. “I’ve upset a few agencies in my time, especially during the War. And there was something about you that just seemed… recognisable.” They smiled. “Probably your attitude more than anything else- I can tell you’re a bureaucrat at heart. Which agency are you with, if you don’t mind me getting personal? Or rather, getting professional.”

“I’m- I can’t tell you. Top secret, you understand.” Narvin patted down his suit nervously. Undercover work had never really been his forte, improvisation even less so. But Mantus was breathing down the Agency’s neck about protocol, so for now he had to wear human clothes and talk human words. “I can only say that it’s a major one, from one of the… countries. Coordinator Narvin.” After a moment’s pause he remembered to put his hand out in front of him.

The human shook it. “Pleasure to meet you Coordinator Narvin of ‘one of the countries’. I’m Doctor Bowman, with the HMS Wonder.” They pointed down to the ship.

“I see, I see. And what are you doing here?”

“We’ve been docked at the town for a few days, until the new year. I like to come up this hill to look at the stars, but I’ve never seen you here before. Are you here to stargaze too, Coordinator?”

“No, I’m on official business. War business.” This human- Bowman- was a charmer, and though he knew not to divulge everything, Narvin didn’t see the harm in talking with them. It’s not like he had anything better to be doing.

“I’m happy to say that you missed your opportunity. This whole island’s been at peace since the Great War ended last year.”

“There’s always another war raging somewhere.” Narvin wished he was as blissfully ignorant as this stargazing human.

But Bowman scowled. “Oh I’m sure. Somewhere there’s always power to seize, always terror to spread, always weapons to stockpile. Empire-building- it’s one of the universe’s most vile plagues.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Bowman was evidently surprised by the agreement, and Narvin partly was as well. But the human’s words had sounded unnervingly like a description of what _he_ \- the new Gallifreyan President- was doing. Once upon a time, Narvin might have called those actions unpleasant but necessary, but now the thought of them filled him with a kind of… horror? Fear?

Narvin loved Gallifrey, but he had been trying to avoid asking himself… how much of it was left? How much of Gallifrey today was the same as the one in his hearts? And how much of it was worth saving? Romana was still worth fighting for- he’d come to trust that she’d _always_ be worth fighting for. But truthfully, he wasn’t at all certain how much else was.

Bowman was still looking at him curiously, so Narvin said “If I’m being honest with you… I’m not sure I entirely believe in my… country’s decisions. I feel my Agency losing power, and in the face of this War- it can be hard not to feel totally helpless.”

“That’s what war does, Narvin. It consumes everything.”

“If only you knew,” he sighed. “The things I’ve seen this War do. The things I’ve seen _my_ _side_ do in the name of winning it. Meddling with life and death, bargains with monsters. Lives, civilisations, worlds, all destroyed-”

“Worlds?”

“It destroyed _my_ world.” Narvin looked away. At the ground, and then at the village. They could still hear whooping and shouting when the hill was silent.

“You lost someone,” said Bowman.

“Yes,” said Narvin, because he didn’t see any point in denying it.

He felt Bowman standing right next to him, and eventually he looked at them.

“You know, I probably shouldn’t be saying any of this.”

“Probably,” Bowman smiled. They really had a wonderful smile.

They suddenly sat down on the grass, their legs dangling over the short drop before the slope became more gradual. “Sit,” they said. “I think you have time for a _little_ bit of stargazing.”

Narvin looked horrified. “Sit on the ground? I’ll get dirty!”

Bowman started laughing at that, and even Narvin had to admit to himself that it was a little absurd how fast he’d gone from the horror of war to the horror of fabric stains. Nonetheless, he lowered himself gingerly. He was careful to avoid a patch of mud, which happened to mean sitting closer to Bowman than he otherwise would have.

For a while, they sat together looking up at the stars. When Narvin confessed to not knowing many of them (in _this_ sky, at least, although he didn’t say that), Bowman named a few as they pointed them out.

“They’re so clear,” Narvin said. “I can’t remember when I last spent time just looking at the stars. I’m not sure I’ve done it since I was a child.” As a Time Lord, he’d spent most of his professional life inside- literally behind closed doors. And on Gallifrey there was so much blocking the sky anyway- domes, shields. Not to mention the trenches and war drones these days.

“I’ve done it for as long as I can remember,” Bowman said, “which admittedly isn’t very long. I have amnesia- everything before a certain time on a certain day is gone. But every so often, I get the smallest of glimpses.” They closed their eyes, still facing upward. “I think I went stargazing with my father. I remember the sky dancing above us. I remember vibrant and beautiful colours… but not exactly what those colours were.” Their voice had been almost mesmeric as they thought back, but it lost something when their memory faltered, something that Narvin was sad to hear go.

“You don’t remember anything else from back then?”

They shook their head. “I wish I could, if only to see those colours in that sky. But I have no idea where that home is anymore.”

Narvin understood what they meant.

Bowman opened their eyes. “Just as well, really, I prefer not to waste my time on the past if I can avoid it. The future is bound to be more interesting, don’t you think?” They flashed him another stunning smile. “I can’t stand moping around, not doing anything.”

Narvin laughed. “You remind me of- my friend. She would never stand still when she could be running at something or, I don’t know, stabbing something.”

“Stabbing isn’t quite my style,” Bowman said, “On the whole I prefer talking. I’m sure anyone I talk to would feel the same way.”

At that Narvin couldn’t help but think of Romana as well. He wondered what both of his friends would think of Bowman, if they could ever meet. They had made a good impression on Narvin, so they could probably charm anyone.

Suddenly, a bright red explosion filled the sky. Narvin jumped to his feet. He reached for the staser that he didn’t have with him.

In an instant, Bowman was standing at his side, hands on his shoulders. “It’s okay,” they said. “It’s just a firework. From the village.” Now that they mentioned it, Narvin could hear the cheering from down the hill.

“Oh,” said Narvin, embarrassed. He relaxed a little, and only then realised that he’d instinctively pout one of his hands Bowman’s own, where they were touching him. He could feel himself blushing, but he pretended he hadn’t noticed yet, and left his hand where it was. “Why on Earth would they do that?” He asked, trying to be annoyed.

Bowman grinned. “It’s the new year! 1919 is over and done. Welcome, Narvin, to the roaring twenties!”

Narvin could have commented on how odd a name that was for a decade, or he could have said something snarky about humanity’s concept of the passing of time. But when he looked at Bowman’s face, lit up like the firework, he smiled too. He kept holding on to the hand on his shoulder. “Glad I could make it.”

Bowman turned to meet his eyes with their own. They had astonishing eyes: deep and bright and piercing like stars. And really rather attractive. For a moment they stood and gazed.

“I think I was wrong about you, Narvin,” they said. “You’re not _just_ a bureaucrat at heart.”

“I’m not sure about that,” he said quietly, because their faces were now awfully close together. “I’m just a coordinator with nothing left to coordinate.”

Bowman hummed. “Sounds like the dream job to me.” They were so close that Bowman only needed to whisper. “You know, there’s a tradition about New Year.”

And then they kissed. It was quick and it was something of a shock to Narvin, even though he’d leant in for it. Importantly, it was also exceptionally pleasant. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, partly because he really didn’t want to start thinking about what he was doing. Bowman pulled back, and looked at him with those beautiful eyes.

Narvin wished he had something witty to say.

“I’m sorry about the beard,” he said.

Bowman laid their hand on his cheek.

“I really like the beard.”

Then the two lost and lonely stargazers held each other and kissed again. It was longer this time, drawn out but gentle. As if they had all the time in the world.

Narvin knew in his hearts that he didn’t. He’d be back on Gallifrey soon enough, whether it was still his home or not. But right now, he dared to imagine that maybe, one day, he could come back here. After the War had ended- or to escape it if it never did. Maybe he and Romana could find Leela, and then settle down in Humanian-Era Earth, alongside the funny human with the piercing, pretty eyes and the wonderful smile.

Another firework went off but Narvin didn’t see what colour, and had no real desire to break the kiss and look.

**Author's Note:**

> The Doctor Who discord server I'm a part of loves coming up with new and sometimes cursed relationships involving Narvin, but honestly Narvin/Eight is one of the only ones with which I went from 'ironically shipping it for jokes' to 'wait there's actual chemistry here, please I CAN'T get invested in a ship that will never have any content ever'. Well, at least they actually had a story together in audio, that's more than some get.
> 
> Anyway, I love the idea of Eight and Narvin hooking up, and the absolute horror both would feel if they ever found out. I WAS tempted to write a second chapter where Romana comes to pick up Narvin and loses her mind when she sees what happened.


End file.
